


strong enough to win without a war

by notquitepunkrock



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: (that's my favorite tag), Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Fidget Spinners Being Used As They Were Intended, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Panic Attacks, This fic pretends infinity war never happened, agnst, like graphically described panic attacks, me projecting onto my faves? its more likely than you think, specifically generalized anxiety disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 14:32:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14571036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notquitepunkrock/pseuds/notquitepunkrock
Summary: Peter hadn't been to school in a month. It wasn't for lack of trying. He just... couldn't.





	strong enough to win without a war

**Author's Note:**

> HAHA THIS IS A VENT FIC AF because I haven't been to school in a month bc #anxiety and I'm trying so hard not to fail my senior year bc that would be lame.
> 
> also ned carries around a variety of fidget toys for pete when he gets anxious and this is canon
> 
> yes the title is from invisible by hunter hayes don't @ me okay, i live in the south

One month before spring break in his senior year, Peter stopped going to school.

It wasn’t that he didn’t  _ want _ to go to school - he did, really. Nothing would have made him happier than to hear MJ argue with their Lit teacher about the misogynistic undertones of literally anything written by Ernest Hemingway, or to pass notes with Ned during Pre-Calc instead of actually paying attention. But he just couldn’t  _ do _ it.

Things hadn’t been this bad in a while.

The last time Peter had missed school for more than a week was at the beginning of junior year. For two weeks, he’d had panic attacks so severe every day that he was basically nonfunctional, to the point that the one day he’d tried to go to school, Ned had found him collapsed on the floor in the bathroom hyperventilating - all in all, not a good experience. The result was a diagnosis of Generalized Anxiety Disorder and a supersoldier-sized daily dose of lorazepam. 

That wasn’t a guarantee though. As even Tony reminded him regularly, the medication didn’t stop the anxiety - it just took the edge off, made it manageable enough to function. Sometimes things would still stop him in his tracks, and that’s why Rhodey suggested a therapist that specialized in heroes and metahumans - because that was a thing that existed, apparently. 

“Sometimes, you need to work through things with someone who’s trained to help you,” he’d said when Peter tried to argue against it. And he hated to admit, but the colonel was right. 

But that month in senior year something just… broke. 

It started with a panic attack in the middle of Chemistry. He’d been just fine, actually copying down the notes and working on yet another web fluid formula in the margins, when he glanced up and towards Flash.

Flash grinned, made a jerking off motion under his lab table, and mouthed “Penis Parker” at him. Normally, Peter would brush it off. Sometime in the past four years he’d grown used to Flash’s stupid thing against him and stopped letting it really get to him. If he got physical, that would be a different story, but he rarely did. 

That day, something inside him just snapped. 

It felt like someone had decided to squeeze all of the air out of his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. Peter squeezed his hand around his pencil, and the entire thing snapped, causing the students around him to turn and stare. He tried to ignore them, focusing on the words in his notebook, but they blurred before his eyes.

“Peter.” Mr. Harrington must have been calling his name for a while before Peter heard him, because when he finally looked up the man had his eyebrows drawn together in concern. “Do you need to step out for a minute?”

Peter nodded, shoving his notebook and pencil case into his bag. He barely had it thrown over his shoulder before he stood up. He didn’t even notice his hands were shaking until just then, just as his knees threatened to give way underneath him.

He barely made it to the bathroom before the hyperventilating started. 

Peter curled in on himself in the farthest stall from the door, pressing his fists against his ears. He buried his face into his knees and tried desperately to count to ten, to force his breaths to even out but it wasn’t- working-

God, why couldn’t he just ignore Flash? He’d been doing the same thing for years, but for some reason the stupid nickname echoed in Peter’s ears, along with a billion other insults that had been thrown his way.

_ Worthless, your parents wouldn’t even want you, liar, why would Tony Stark want you around, Penis? Fag, disgusting, where’s your boyfriend? Bet the only reason you got that internship is you give Stark good head. Ugly, worthless, Penis Parker, fairy, you shouldn’t even exist- _

“Come on, Parker, breathe with me.” Someone was sitting in front of Peter. Someone coached him through breathing - in for four, hold for seven, out for eight - until he managed to calm his heart rate down, managed to stop hyperventilating and uncurl himself ever-so-slightly to look at them. 

MJ stared back at him with a look that was almost concerned. “Can I touch you?” she asked cautiously. Peter took stock of himself, the way he didn’t feel like he was bursting out of his skin anymore, and nodded. MJ placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Focus on my hand. See, I’m right here, it’s right here, everything is okay.”

She kept chanting until Peter apparently didn’t look like he was about to pass out anymore. When she finally took her hand away, she reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a packet of tissues. “Here,” she said, handing them over. “You look like Niagra Falls decided to take up residence on your face.”

Peter took the tissues gratefully, using one to wipe off his tear-stained cheeks (when had he started crying?) and another to carefully rip into shreds with his still shaky hands. 

“How did you-?” he started.

MJ raised her phone and her eyebrow at the same time. “Betty texted when you ran out of class,” she explained. At his panicked look, she rolled her eyes. “Calc was boring, anyway, so I just left.”

Peter’s shoulders dropped from where they’d hunched up around his ears. “Ned?”

“Waiting impatiently for the bell to ring and/or a text telling him you’re alright,” she said breezily. She peered closer at him. “ _ Are  _ you alright, Parker?” 

He winced. Her tone was gentle, too gentle for MJ. She was never this, this  _ soft _ . God, he must look like a loser. “I’m fine,” he said, trying for a smile. His friend didn’t look convinced.

“Try that again, but honest this time,” she said drily. Peter gave a half-hearted shrug and MJ rose to her feet, dusting off the seat of her pants. “Okay, come on, let’s get you to the nurse’s office.”

“No, I have to go to class, I have a Spanish test,” he argued, even though his heart squeezed in panic at the thought of trying to take a  _ test _ like this. MJ, however, didn’t seem to be taking no for an answer. She half dragged him out of the bathroom - startling a freshman on his way in - and down the hall towards the nurse. They made it into the clinic just before the bell rang and the hall filled with people. Peter couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t grateful for that.

The nurse had him sit down in the back room of the clinic and returned to the front to call May. About three minutes later, Ned burst into the room, looking slightly out of breath.

“Sorry it took me so long,” he said, as if he had arrived shortly after they did. “I had to swing by Strib for a pass. I’ll be right here ‘til May gets here, though.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Peter argued, guilt just managing to seep into his voice. His best friend hated missing class, and here he was because Peter couldn’t deal with a little bit of taunting from the kid who’d been messing with him since high school had started. Ned frowned at him.

“As your best friend, I totally did,” he countered. 

They stared at each other in a silent battle of wills until MJ cleared her throat, rolling her eyes intensely when they turned to look at her. “As fun as it is to watch the two of you argue over Parker’s emotional constipation, I really have to get to class. I’m debating Thompson today and I can’t wait to tear him apart. See ya at lunch, Leeds.” 

With that, she swung her bag over her shoulder and disappeared out the door. 

At Flash’s name, Peter had paled, digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands. Ned seemed to notice, because he plopped down beside Peter on the bed and pulled a fidget spinner out of his pocket. This one was bright red with a web design on the wings and the spider logo from Peter’s suit in the center. He pressed into Peter’s hands, and wrapped his arm around the taller boy’s shoulder. 

Peter leaned his head on Ned’s chest and flicked the spinner. He watched it spin until it slowed down as his best friend stroked his shoulder gently with his thumb. It was easier to focus on the spinner than the number of thoughts running through his head, especially if he counted the number of seconds it took before it slowed to a stop. Ned’s comforting presence also helped, even Peter did still feel guilty about pulling him away from class.

May found them like that twenty minutes later, when Peter had half fallen asleep on his best friend’s shoulder. She pulled him into a tight hug and took him home. Peter was asleep before they even got out of the parking lot.

 

Things went downhill after that panic attack. First was a week’s worth of aborted attempts to go back to school. Sometimes, Peter would only get so far as getting dressed and would be halfway through eating breakfast or getting his shoes on before the panic would set in, and he’d devolve into a sobbing, panicked mess in May’s arms. (He stopped eating breakfast after that. He wasn’t hungry, anyway.) Once he made it all the way to the subway with May before he had the panic attack, but the moment the doors closed and trapped him inside with so many people he couldn’t breathe.

The last time he actually tried to go to school, he was in May’s car.

Peter had dragged his feet, tired from not sleeping the night before and from trying day after day to turn into a functional teenager again and failing. He’d been nervous getting ready for school, but ignored it, shoving the anxiety deep down as he took his medication and got ready. May had suggested trying the car, because the car didn’t have as many people. It would be just them.

He managed to close the door before he started crying, at least.

So yeah, Peter was not doing well at handling his anxiety, and every day seemed to get worse. By week three, he’d basically become a hermit. His palms were ripped to shreds from the sheer number of times he’d dug his nails into them in an attempt to calm down, and his lower lip bled easily from biting on it so many times. He completely lost his appetite, so that the only meal he’d manage to eat each day was dinner - and that was only because he didn’t want May to worry more than she already was. 

Perhaps most worryingly, Peter had stopped going out on patrol and he’d stopped talking to anyone except for May. That included Tony and Happy, who both sent him texts and calls with increasing frequency and concern.

He’d gone to his therapist a few times, and each time they connected the anxiety with yet another memory that he’d forced himself to suppress - it ranged from the few times Flash and his friends had actually gotten violent, to that time he was crushed by a building. They had worked on identifying a few triggers, but sometimes - most of the time - it was random and desperate. He was on a new medication, but it would still be another week before they could be sure if any changes were actually being made. 

Week four, Ned walked into his bedroom with a box of Legos, his Star Wars box set, his Nintendo Switch, and the first three Harry Potter books. Peter stared at him with wide eyes as he dropped his pile of things on the desk. “Okay, so I have options,” he said, turning to face him.

“What are you doing here?” Peter asked, attempting to hide the way his voice was shaking. His heart seized in his chest and he could already feel his lungs stop doing their job properly. God, he’d ignored Ned for weeks, he was such a bad friend, Ned was probably here to tell him he hated him, he-

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” Ned said, sitting down beside Peter. He tugged a tangle toy out of his pocket and dropped into Peter’s hands. “I’m here because I’m worried and I miss my best friend. Oh my God, you idiot, tangle the dang toy.”

Peter started as Ned gently pried open his fists. His friend frowned as he saw the sight of his palms, scarred up as they were, and the blood underneath his nails, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he closed Peter’s hands around the toy, and stared at him until Peter started to mess with it. Then he nodded in satisfaction, and returned to his pile of entertainment.

“Anyway,” he started, raising his eyebrows when Peter opened his mouth to object. “I brought my switch because Ken just sent me MarioKart 8 for it. I didn’t bring any instruction booklets for the Legos, so if you just want something to do with your hands, there’s that. Star Wars marathons are always good. Or I can read to you if you’re tired.”

Peter bit his lip and stared at his friend. Ned stared right back. It was clear he wasn’t planning on going anywhere. “Um, can you, uh, read to me?” he said quietly. Ned grinned, and grabbed Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone from the top of the stack.

“Scoot over, Pete,” he said, and Peter shuffled over on his bed to make room for Ned. The other boy dropped down, and adjusted the pillows behind his back. He cleared his throat and began reading as Peter dropped his head onto his chest. Ned’s arm wrapped around him and he gently combed his fingers through his hair. Peter’s own fingers twisted the tangle toy into weird shapes as he listened.

 

**_“_ ** _ Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much _ _ …”  _

 

Ned really did have the best reading voice. He did voices for all the characters - gruff and deep for Uncle Vernon, high-pitched for Aunt Petunia, squeaky and spoiled for Dudley. Peter let himself get lost in the familiar story. 

They got all the way through chapter five before Ned set the book down, carefully nudging Peter so he was sitting upright again. “Okay Pete, we gotta talk,” he said. Peter’s heart leaped to his throat.

“Whatever I did, I’m sorry,” he started, but Ned shook his head.

“You didn’t do anything,” he assured him. “It’s just - I was all for letting you do what you need to do, ride this wave how you need to ride it, but then I got a call from Tony Freaking Stark because you haven’t talked to him in a month.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Mr. Stark called you?” he asked.

“Yeah, and after I stopped freaking out over that, I realized it’s been a month since you’ve done  _ anything _ ,” Ned continued. He sounded worried, and Peter hated it, hated how much he’d worried Ned and Tony and May because he couldn’t make his brain work properly. “Like, you haven’t been patrolling, and you haven’t been to school, and haven’t talked to me and MJ and now I find out you haven’t even talked to Mr. Stark, and I’m worried about you, Peter.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter said. “The anxiety is - it’s getting worse, and I’m  _ trying _ to figure it out, I really am, but I’m just  _ broken _ .”

“False,” Ned said immediately. “Wrong answer. You’re not broken. You’ve got an anxiety disorder - completely different things.” Peter tried to argue, but Ned steamrolled by, setting the book back on the desk and pulling himself out of the bed. “On a tangentially related note, your Aunt May said, and I quote, ‘please get him out of the house’ so you and I are going down to Delmar’s to get sandwiches.”

Peter didn’t bother to argue. If everything got too bright, too loud, too much, he’d have Ned to look out for him.

God, Peter loved Ned.

 

On what would be, for everyone else, the first day of Spring Break (Peter didn’t think he had the right to call it that, seeing as he’d also been out of school for the whole month leading up to it,) he found himself walking into Tony’s lab. He didn’t quite know how he’d convinced himself to leave the house, let alone to bring himself all the way to Stark Industries but he’d done it.

Walking through the door was like coming home, if that made any sense. Peter looked around at the tables strewn with tech, some of it for the company, some of it for the Avengers. His own small section of the lab - two tables, one for his more mechanically inclined projects, and one that he dedicated to working on web fluid - remained the same as it had been since the last time he’d been there. No one had touched it, it seemed. Not even Tony.

That was weirdly comforting.

Peter dropped his bag on the floor by his stool. He pulled out his notes on the web fluid and his make up work for Robotics. He’d been working pretty diligently on staying caught up on all his assignments, but there was only so much he could do in the apartment.

He set aside his notes, and looked over his plans for his Robotics project. As far as ideas went, this should be fairly simple. 

The doors swung open again, and Tony strolled in, holding his phone to his ear. 

“Sir,” Friday said, in an attempt to get his attention, but Tony ignored her. He hummed along with whatever the person he was talking to was saying, picking through the projects on his desk with disinterest. 

“Not now, Fri,” he said. He turned around, pulling something up on one of his holoscreens before he caught sight of Peter. Tony nearly dropped his phone in surprise. “I gotta go,” he said into the phone, immediately ending his call.

“Sir, Mr. Parker is in your lab,” Friday said, sounding a little smug. 

Tony stared at Peter and Peter stared right back. He could feel his cheeks heating up. “I can go, if this is a bad time, I just needed to do some make up work,” he started, but Tony was already bolting over to his corner of the room.

“Kid!” he exclaimed, moving to hug Peter. “Are you okay? It’s been a while I-”

He stopped, cleared his throat, stepped back. “Are you okay if I hug you?” he asked awkwardly. Peter hesitated before nodding, and Tony pulled him in. Peter forgot how good Tony was at hugging people. 

When he was anxious, Peter tended to get more clingy than he was already. Mid-panic attack, he didn’t want to be touched, but afterwards… well, Ned had once compared him to a koala bear. After having a panic attack at the Compound back when he was first getting bad in junior year, Tony had learned this lesson. Peter, on the other hand, had learned that Tony was the third best person to get hugs from in the world - right after Ned and May, respectively. 

“So are you doing better? May said they got you a new medication, is it working out?” Tony asked when he pulled away. Peter tugged his sleeves over his knuckles and shrugged.

“I think it is,” he said tentatively. “I think things are starting to… to even themselves out a little? I’m sorry for worrying you, though. I think I pretty much worried everyone and it kind of sucks.”

Tony shook his head. “We worry because we care kid,” he said. “You know I’m always here to talk if you need me, right? Just say the word.” 

“Great,” Peter said. “Because I wanted your opinion on my Robotics project.” Tony grinned and motioned for him to show it off, so Peter launched into his explanation. He felt lighter than he had in ages.

 

After spring break, Peter went back to school. Things weren’t perfect yet, but they were better than they had been and they were getting even better every day. And really, that was all Peter could ask for.

**Author's Note:**

> Spider-Man fidget spinner is [ here ](https://www.amazon.com/STAR-Fidget-Spinners-Unique-Antique/dp/B072ZV3PFT/ref=sr_1_27_a_it?ie=UTF8&qid=1525703596&sr=8-27&keywords=spiderman%2Bfidget%2Bspinner&th=1)  
> [ This ](https://www.amazon.com/Tangle-Textured-Sensory-Fidget-Colors/dp/B002AC0P4W/ref=sr_1_15?ie=UTF8&qid=1525705822&sr=8-15&keywords=tangle+toys) is a tangle toy
> 
> comments and kudos give me life and keep me writing <3  
> come yell at me on tumblr @ moonys-crappy-doodles OR over-the-moony-for-padfoot


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